


Three Lessons on how to get a Date to the Prom.

by Anonymous



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: High School AU, M/M, Prom, Pygmalion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 00:33:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13135422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This was unacceptable.  Victor was going to help Yuuri get a date to the prom.The high school AU/My Fair Lady fusion fic no one asked for.





	Three Lessons on how to get a Date to the Prom.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katsukifatale (TrumpetGeek)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrumpetGeek/gifts).



> For katsukifatale who wanted a High School AU. 
> 
> I did my best and I hope you like it.

 

"Yuuri!"

Victor beamed at him.  Yuuri tucks his chin in like a turtle.  It's kinda adorable.  The date of the prom has been announced.  Yuuri stared at the poster: a silhouette of a girl in a long dress and a guy in a suit, dancing.  He does this adorable thing where he chews his lower lip, looking nervously at it. 

 

"Do you know who you're going to the prom with?" asked Victor. 

 

Yuuri looked at him.  "Do you?"

 

Victor didn't.  But that wasn’t important.  "Oh someone, I'm sure," said Victor, waving off the inconvenient question with an airy wave.  "What about you?"

 

Yuuri blushed.  "There is someone."

 

"Really?  Who?  Do I know them?"

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes.  "You know everybody."

 

"No, I don't!  If I did, I could figure out your paramour."

 

"Who says paramour anymore?"

 

"It's a beautiful word.  Now, who is it?"

Usually Yuuri tolerated Victor's extra extranesss with his typical Yuuri fondness.  Instead, Yuuri stayed silent and looked at the ground.  He often did this when he was avoiding something uncomfortable.  

 

Feeling like he stepped over some invisible line, Victor said, “It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.”

 

Yuuri nods before his eyes dropped to the floor.  "To be honest, I don't know if he's interested and I don't uh--"

 

"Don't want to be disappointed."

 

"You understand?"

 

"Silly Yuuri.  Of course, I do.  No one likes rejection."

 

"I bet no one ever rejects you," said Yuuri. 

 

"You'd be surprised," said Victor.  No one ever asked Victor on a date.  All the girls are too nervous.  He sees them hiding behind their locker doors, giggling as he walked past.  He would wink at them and they'd squeal and duck.  It would have been amusing if he was interested.  He harmlessly flirted with them out of boredom and garnered a terrible reputation as a flighty flirt.  As for the guys, a few peaked his interest but they never went anywhere.

 

Victor took a good look at Yuuri.  He's adorable.  He's got beautiful big brown eyes, an enviable clear complexion that has no skin sensitivity (thought Victor bitterly, remembering his own beauty regime) and graceful when he wasn't thinking too hard.  And Victor has seen Yuuri shirtless in the locker room.  And Yuuri was smart, disciplined and a lot of fun to be around.  How could Yuuri think himself so unworthy?  Suddenly, Victor had an idea but he’d have to tread carefully.

 

"I could coach you."

 

Yuuri looked at him skeptically.  "What do you mean?  Coach me how?"

 

"On how to ask crush out to go to the prom.   It will be like that movie, My Fair Lady."

 

"That movie needed more dancing."

 

Victor pretended he hadn’t heard that.  “No one knows you like the way me and Phichit does.  It’s a shame.  I don’t’ to change who you are because the real you is so much sexier and interesting than what you show the world.  I don’t see how anyone could say no to you if they’d really know what you were like.”

 

“Sexier?” repeated Yuuri.  “Now I know you don’t know w hat you’re talking about.”

 

"I've seen you dance."

 

"That doesn't count."

 

"You'll break everyone's hearts with those light feet, soulful eyes and that tempting look.  Phichit showed me some videos of you."

 

"I'm going to kill Phichit."

 

"Honestly, I didn’t know you could break dance."

 

"He won't live tomorrow."

 

This was good.   Yuuri was joking with him again.  Which meant there could be a chance that he could agree to this.

 

"What do you say?  I’ll teach you my secrets on how to talk to anyone.  I’ll even help you pick out your tux.  You don’t have anything to lose.  We can stop anytime if it isn’t working for you.”

 

Yuuri bit his lip again.  "Do you think I need a lot of work?”

 

Victor felt something soft go inside.  "Yuuuuurrrrri.    You're a wonderful friend and any guy would be happy to have you."

 

"I'm a wonderful friend," repeated Yuuri, emotionless in a way that Victor has never heard before.  He smiled even brighter to show Yuuri how much he means it.

 

"The very best."

 

Yuuri said nothing for a while and just looked at Victor.  Victor beamed at him, casting Yuuri his famous smile that usually got him whatever he wanted.  Usually.

 

Yuuri sighed.  “Ok.  What’s the worse that could happen?”

* * *

 

Lesson one:  Clothes make the man

 

Victor decided to start with the easiest thing he could do to improve Yuuri’s chances of getting his prom date.  The clothes.

 

Victor stared at the open closet. The collection was spare and a little same-y.  Yuuri liked wearing blues, greys and blacks and maybe an occasional grey item.  But blues overwhelmed the choices.  Sometimes it wasn't a bad idea.  Blue suited him beautifully.  But at the same time, there wasn't a lot of variation.  Mostly t-shirts, sweat shirts, sweat pants.  Mostly jeans.  Mostly...very basic.  A lot of it was very Yuuri and he didn't want to change the essence of who Yuuri was.  After all, he was beautiful already.  But the clothes should enhance his beauty.

 

Victor pulled out the sad grey pilling sweater Yuuri wore the other day.  He stared at it like it personally offended him. 

 

Yuuri squinted.  "that's my favourite one."

 

"But why?"

 

"I don't know," said Yuuri, scratching the back of his neck.  "It's comfortable."

 

After a pause, Yuuri asked, “So you don't like it?" 

 

Victor didn't like it at all.  But he knew better than to be heartless.  "It's not terrible.  But you could do better."  By not terrible, he means he would trash it if Yuuri wouldn’t kill him for it. 

 

Yuuri shrugged. "I don't understand the point of this.  I'm just going to prom.  what does my date care what I wear everyday?"

 

Victor sighed.  "It's not what you wear.  that's not all.  But the clothes make the man.  It's a cliché, but true.  Clothes affect how you feel about yourself."

 

Yuuri squinted at him again.   "You want me to dress like you.  that's all.   I know what you're thinking.  I'm not doing this to give you an excuse to throw away my favourite clothes that you hate."

 

Victor held his hand to his heart.  "Yuuri!  I'm wounded.  Do you think so little of me?  I'm trying to help."

 

Yuuri sighed. "I know.  What do you suggest?"

 

Victor tapped his lip in thought.  "Something more form fitting.  To show off your assets."

 

Yuuri frowned. "I don't have any assets."

 

Victor winked.  "I've been the locker room with you, Yuuri.  I know what you're hiding."

 

Yuuri blushed.  "No one cares.  Clothes won't distract people from my looks.  I'm not that special."

 

Victor felt sad.  How could Yuuri say that?  Yuuri, beautiful Yuuri.  With abs to die for and grace that can't be taught. 

 

Instead, Victor grabbed his hand.  “Come on, Yuuri.  We’re going shopping.”

* * *

 

The local mall was not a natural home for Yuuri.  Yuuri had no love for clothes, the crowds and the sticky tables in the food court (actually no one had love for those).  Victor loved shopping.  He scanned his favourite store, getting ready for his treasure hunt.  He gave a lot of thought on Yuuri’s clothes.   To be honest, Victor had been trying to find an excuse to dress Yuuri.  He had so many nice attributes, it was a shame he hid them under those cheap over-sized shirts. 

 

He picked out a royal blue V-neck sweater, a simple dress shirt, grey slacks and ah!  A navy trench coat.  Yuuri had a love for the colour blue and Victor could agree on that.  Yuuri looked lovely in blue.  Half the battle is won with the simple colour choice.  The rest would take a bit of work.  Especially with the unsure look Yuuri was giving Victor’s choices.

 

“Wouldn’t I dress like you?”

 

“I wouldn’t wear this shade of grey,” said Victor.

 

“Really?  They’re the exact shade of grey you’re wearing now.”

 

Victor looked down.  So, it was.  He put the grey slacks away and opted for a pair of black jeans that showed off Yuuri’s assets nicely.  Very nicely.

 

 “Here.” He shoved the jeans in Yuuri’s hands and led him to the change rooms.   “Follow me.”

 

When Yuuri walked out of the dressing room, it took Victor a moment to say anything.  Yuuri looked stunning.  The royal blue fitted his slender frame beautifully.  The crisp white shirt underneath gave him an air of simple sophistication.  The jeans…well, there were no words for what the jeans did for Yuuri.  The trench coat pulled the outfit together.   It wasn’t too different from what Yuuri wore day to day.  Except everything fit and looked crisp. 

 

“How do you feel?” asked Victor.

 

Yuuri smiled.  “I like it.”

* * *

 

Lesson two:  Flirting like a pro

 

The biggest challenge was the flirting.  It came so naturally to Victor, it never occurred to him that this would make it so hard to teach.  It was like teaching someone how to write with their right hand.  You never thought about it.  You just did it.  The more Victor thought about it, the more he realized that flirting cannot be taught like dance steps.  Or baking bread.  Or riding a bike.  You had to find it within you.  Figure out what works with you so it didn’t come off fake. 

 

He sat in front of Yuuri and just said, “Seduce me.”

 

Yuuri went bugged eyed.  “What??!”

 

“Go on.  If you wanted to flirt with me, what would you do?”

 

Yuuri flushed.  “I couldn’t.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you’re my best friend,” he blurted.  Embarrassed by his outburst, he averted his eyes.  “It would feel weird.”

 

Victor tapped his lip with his finger.  He didn’t think it would be so strange.  He’s seen Yuuri with food poisoning.  It can’t get worse than that.   “I don’t see how.   We’re just pretending.”

 

Yuuri wouldn’t look at him.  “It just would.”

 

 

“I know.  I’ll dye my hair and wear my father’s clothes.  Then you can pretend I’m someone else and it won’t be so weird.”

 

Yuuri looked at him, his eyes softening.  “You don’t have to do that.”

 

He reached over to touch Victor’s hair.  He ran his hand through his bangs.  It was almost too tender.  Victor felt the tingling sensation of his face going red.   He tilted his head forward to cover his face so that Yuuri couldn’t see him. 

 

Yuuri smiled.  “Your hair is beautiful.  I’d hate to see anything happen to it with a bad dye job.”

 

“Ok,” said Victor, bewildered.  “I won’t.  But I’ll wear my father’s worse clothes and hat.”

 

Yuuri nodded.  “I’ll forward to it.”

* * *

 

“Yuuuuuuriiiiiii…,” whined Victor.  “Stop laughing.”

 

Yuuri was curled on the bed, doubled over in laughter.  Victor looked at the skin-tight shimmering t-shirt and leather pants. The beanie on his head hid his long hair.   None of his father’s clothes would do.  His father had a similar but fabulous style that Victor unconsciously mimicked.  So, Chris was the only person he could ask and…well, this is what he came up with. 

 

“I’m sorry.  I was about to ask if you wanted to borrow my sister’s glitter make-up to go with the outfit,” said Yuuri. 

 

“Your sister doesn’t wear any make-up,” pouted Victor.

 

“Then I’ll have to ask Chris,” said Yuuri.  “I’m sure he has some you could borrow.”

 

“He offered to lend me some,” said Victor.

 

“I knew it!” said Yuuri, pointing at him.  “You did steal Chris’s clothes.”

 

“You’re terrible,” said Victor. 

 

He didn’t know why he listened to Chris.  He should have trusted his own instincts.  He was facing the mirror and could see Yuuri still laughing at him.  He quickly took off the shirt and bent over to rummaged his bag to find his favourite sweater.  When he found it, he could see the reflection of Yuuri staring at him, no longer laughing.  The look on his face was studiously interested. 

 

“Like what you see?”

 

Yuuri looked away.  “Uh, no.  Not at all.”

 

Victor pulled his sweater on.  He didn’t want to embarrass Yuuri any further.   He sat in front of Yuuri, feeling much better.  He might keep the leather pants but the shirt had to go. 

 

“Now, let’s get started.  Let’s say we’ve never met.  How would you ask me out?”

 

“Um, would you like to go out with me?”

 

“No no.  That’s too soon.  You have to get to know them.  Compliment them on their clothes or their nice shoes.”

 

“You want me to compliment you on your ridiculous pants?”

 

“So rude,” said Victor.  “I’m serious.  How would you ask me out?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip.  “But I’m asking someone at school.  I probably already know them.”

 

“That’s true.  So, what would you do?”

 

“I don’t know.  Ask them for class notes?”

 

Victor said nothing. 

 

Yuuri tried again.  “Ask him about the weather?  Where did he buy his, um…coat?  Does he have snapchat?”

 

It wasn’t where Victor wanted to take this.  Yuuri was thinking much too literally about this question.  He had to go a different way about it. 

 

“Think about seduction.  Eros.  What does it mean to you?  It’s different with everyone.  You can’t copy it or else you’ll be someone else.  It’s something you’re comfortable with because it comes naturally from within you.  Do you know what I mean?”

 

Yuuri obviously didn’t with the way he was staring at Victor.  Another approach then. 

 

“What do you think of when you’re dancing?”

 

“I don’t really know.   I feel the music and move.  There’s steps or techniques Minako has taught me and I do a bit of them and I don’t know.  I’ve never thought about it.  I did- “

 

“What was natural,” finished Victor. 

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And you felt confident doing it?”

 

“I guess.  Sure.”

 

Victor tapped his finger to his lip.  “Then that’s what you have to do.  Find that confidence you have when you dance and translate that into seduction.”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes.  “I don’t think it works like that.  I don’t have to say anything when I dance.  I’m pretty sure I have to use words to ask someone to the prom.”

 

“But it’s something to think about.  That’s your homework.  Think about what makes you feel confident in dance that you could use to seduce someone into accepting a prom date with you.”

 

Yuuri looked liked he wasn’t buying what Victor was selling.  But Victor had faith.  He’s seen Yuuri dance and who wouldn’t want him? 

* * *

 

Lesson 3:  Confidence

 

Yuuri eyed the cork board Victor presented to him like he was unsure what he was supposed to do with it. 

 

“What is that for?” he asked.

 

“The problem with you is that you lack confidence.  So, this will help with that.”

 

“Help how?”  


“I believe in visualization.  What you need to do is put on this board are pictures that represent your best qualities.”  Victor pulled out some old magazines from his bag.  “I got these from my parent’s basement.  We can find pictures here and put them on the board.”

 

Yuuri took the first magazine in the pile and flipped through it.  “These are women’s magazines.”

 

Victor shrugged.  “They were the only magazines in the house.”

 

After an hour, Victor was beginning to rethink how helpful this exercise was.  There was nothing in these magazines to help Yuuri.  Unless he needed help on finding the perfect winter lipstick or how to wear Capri pants.  Yuuri listlessly flipped through them, failing to cut out one thing. 

 

“How do you have confidence, Victor?”

 

“I don’t know.  A lot of the times I fake it when I have to and the confidence comes later.”

 

“How do you fake it?”

 

“I imagine myself being a character in a movie and I act how I think that character would act,” said Victor. 

 

“Like a specific movie?”

 

“No, more like a scene from a movie.  It would be vague movie starring me and I would imagine how I would want to act to get the best happy ending.”

 

Yuuri had that studious pensive look.  He was likely over-thinking what Victor had said.

 

 “Sorry.  I can’t explain it very well,” said Victor. 

 

“No, that’s ok.  I was thinking about the kind of movie I wanted to be in.”

 

“Oh?  And what would that be?”

 

“Like some fairy tale where I would be at a ball and I would seduce the most beautiful woman in the room with my dancing.”  Yuuri laughed.  “It’s not very convincing.”

 

“I don’t know about that.  There was that Christmas party…”

 

Yuuri groaned.  “Don’t remind me.  That was Yuri’s fault.”

 

Victor shrugged.  “No one asked you to declare a dance off with him.  But no one complained.  It was the most fun we had since forever.  Wasn’t it?”

 

Yuuri smiled.  “yeah, it was.”

* * *

 

“What on earth are you doing?” asked Chris, gesturing to the sketchpad in Victor’s hand. 

 

“I’m planning outfits for Yuuri,” said Victor. 

 

“Uh huh.  Are you sure you’re not sketching a portrait of your beloved?” said Chris, sounding like he didn’t believe Victor. 

 

“No.  These are some general ideas.  I’m trying to think of clothes that would make Yuuri irresistible to anyone.  I have to sketch him out in his best light.  To get into the mindset of someone who would want to go out with Yuuri.” 

 

“Mind if I take a look?” asked Chris. 

 

Victor gave him the sketchbook.  Chris flipped through it, one arched eyebrow going higher with each flip of the page. 

 

“Victor, you’ve made twenty sketches of Yuuri.”

 

Victor knew where Chris was going with this.  And for once, he didn’t have a good answer for Chris.

 

“It’s not what you think,” said Victor.  It sounded weak even to his ears.

 

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked Yuuri to the prom, would you?” asked Chris. 

 

Victor’s brain stopped.  The idea was awful.  The most awful ever to be awful.  But he couldn’t give a proper reason why which made it doubly awful.  Chris was attractive, confident and kind.  He was also an terrible flirt.   

 

“Unless, you want to ask Yuuri yourself?” Chris said slowly. 

 

“Why would I want to ask Yuuri out?” Good question. 

 

“Because you have a sketchbook devoted to Yuuri and you two have been inseparable.  Even Phichit is starting to complain.”

 

The sketch in Victor hands was a side profile of Yuuri without his glasses.  His big brown eyes looking downwards and there was a slight smile on his face.   He thought of Yuuri at the prom with his hair slicked back.   He’d wear something sensible like a black suit instead of the baby blue one Victor was planning to wear.  It would be nice to dance with Yuuri for once.  Let Yuuri lead him across a darkened room, looking at him like he was the only one in the room.  It was then that Victor knew he made a mistake. 

* * *

 

Victor watched Georgi and Anya pass them by holding hands in the cafeteria.  The white buzzing noise of a thousand conversations drowned out whatever intimate murmuring the couple was having.  Victor absently stirred his pudding with his plastic spoon.  Yuuri paid him no mind, concentrating on the math textbook in front of him. 

 

“When are you going to ask this special guy out?”

 

Yuuri put down his pencil.  “I haven’t thought of it yet.”

 

“Really?” said Victor.  He glanced at the table where Mila and Sara were sitting, holding hands under table while doing their homework.  He remembered overhearing them talk about their prom dresses before class started.  “Prom is in three weeks.  Someone might ask out your guy before you get a chance to.”

 

Yuuri didn’t look at Victor, staring down at his textbook.  “Have you’ve asked anyone out?”

 

No, thought Victor.  Because I want to go out with you and I was too stupid to realize it.  Instead, he laughed. “I haven’t had the chance.  I’ve been too busy with you to think about it.”

 

“How can you possibly have a date?” Yuuri asked incredulously.

 

Because now you’ve got your eyes on someone else and I’ve been too busy pining to bother asking anyone. 

 

“I don’t know.  I think I waited too late,” said Victor.  “It’s not a big deal.  No one even bothered to approach me.  I don’t want to go out with anyone who isn’t interested.”

 

“It doesn’t bother you?” asked Yuuri in a small voice.

 

Victor smiled.  “Not at all.  There’s too much drama in finding a date.  Being your flirting coach is much more interesting.”

 

“Oh.”

 

That was the last thing Yuuri said for the rest of the lunch hour.  He stared at the textbook for another five minutes before leaving the table, murmuring something about asking Phichit for notes. 

___________________**

On some weekends when Yuuri was busy with his dance classes, Victor would go into a store to look at all the different suits and tuxes that would suit Yuuri.  He knew Yuuri didn’t have one.  But Yuuri never asked Victor for help either.  Victor had his tux picked out weeks ago but he still liked to browse, thinking what if?  What if Yuuri wore this tie?  Or would a bow tie better suit him?  He’d hoped he didn’t have to convince Yuuri out of getting that terrible baby blue bow tie that was the exact same colour as his favourite baby blue tie. 

 

But what did any of this matter?  He’d still look handsome and he still wouldn’t be dancing with Victor.

* * *

 

“What did you want to ask me about,” said Victor.  It was 9:30 on a Sunday night.  Yuuri didn’t often come to his house this late when they could message each other on Facebook or snapchat.  He sat on the bed drying his hair and waited for Yuuri to say what he needed to say.

 

“Victor, I think we should end this.”

 

“Why?  I was going to help you pick out your suit” And burn that tie behind your back.  But Yuuri didn’t need to know that. 

 

Yuuri bowed.  “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.  But I’ve asked around and I know you don’t have a date and I feel like I’ve been wasting your time.”

 

“What?  No.  You haven’t been wasting my time.”

 

Yuuri’s jaw was set.  He had that hard look on his face that people often didn’t see that made him so beautiful. 

 

“I’m sorry.  But I’ve lied to you.”

 

“What?  How?”

 

“There is no one else.   It’s you, it’s always been you.”

 

Victor didn’t know if he heard right.  What?”

 

“I was selfish.  I wanted…I don’t know what I wanted.  It was just nice, spending time with you.  And I was curious about what you’d find attractive in a boyfriend and I don’t know what I was thinking.  I’m sorry.”

 

Yuuri got up and tried to leave.  Victor held onto his arm.  “Please.  Do you want to go the prom with me?”

 

There were tears in Yuuri’s eyes.   “I don’t need your pity, Victor.”

 

Victor frowned.  “I’m not pitying you.  I’m really asking.”

 

“It’s fine.  You don’t need to.”

 

“But I want to.”

 

Yuuri wretched his arm away from Victor “Please.  Don’t make this any harder than it is.”  

 

And Yuuri fled.  Down the stairs and out the door, leaving Victor too stunned to go after him.

__________________________**

High school was evil.  Pure evil.  All the hallways were the same and they reminded him of Yuuri.  Yuuri was in so many of his classes.  The lunch room was the 9th circle of hell.  Victor never understood what others meant when they said that, but now Victor knew.  For the past few days, Yuuri sat at a different table during lunch, away from Victor.  He didn’t know what to do but to give Yuuri space. 

 

 Victor wanted nothing to do but to go on his phone and find listen to all those terrible scream and screechy break up songs that little Yuri inflicted on his poor ears.  He wanted to be angry.  But Victor didn’t do angry very well.  Instead, his playlist was full of Puccini and all those beautiful operas about dead love, heartbreak, betrayed love and more dead love.  The heroine whose lover has left her.  Deserted.  Let the music swell and fill him. 

 

Victor’s brother swiftly came into his room and turned off the music.  Victor pouted and aggressively pined on the bed some more. 

* * *

 

“Please.  Can I come in?”

 

Yuuri was at the door.   He wore the slim fitting trench coat Victor picked out for him.  His hair was swept back and he had a garment bag in his arm and a large tote bag on his shoulder.   Victor wordlessly stepped aside to allow Yuuri in. 

 

“I missed you,” said Yuuri.  “I’m sorry.  That was shitty of me.  I shouldn’t have said any of that.  It’s just that I’ve wanted you since forever and I couldn’t believe that you wanted me too?  I had hoped but ah, I let my stupid over reactive brain take over and I couldn’t see what you saw in me.  But I knew you wouldn’t lie because you put your foot in your mouth so much that your lie it would be stupid and horrendous.”

 

“Yuuri.  You’re so beautiful, it’s almost unfair.  Your dancing is to die for.  And you work hard, you’re talented and you’re patient with all my silly ideas.” 

 

“Should we start again?” asked Yuuri shyly.  “I want to show you what you’ve taught me.”

 

Victor nodded. 

 

Yuuri walked over.  He took off his glasses.  Victor didn’t know why.  He had that look.  He was hot already.   Suddenly he was so close.  Yuuri looked up from his long lashes and then looked away, almost like he was abashed if there wasn’t that slight upturn of his lip that gave him away.   His eyes glanced at his and then trailed down Victor’s body and then back up again, like he was taking a long look and definitely liked what he saw.  Victor’s mouth went dry.   

 

“Will you go the prom with me, Victor?”

 

It was too much.  The joy cannot be contained.  He swept up Yuuri till he was on his toes and put him down again and hugged him tight.  He might have made a squealing sound.

 

“Victor!”

 

“Yes, yes yes!”

* * *

 

Yuri would tell him and tell him again, Victor had no chill.  He’s almost tearful when they announced Victor and Yuuri Prom King and King of 2017.  He didn’t know they were even nominated.  Yuuri’s dirty look in Phichit’s direction was all the confirmation Victor needed.   But that didn’t matter.  He got to dance with Yuuri and show the whole class of 2017 how wonderful and talented his boyfriend was.   While they danced, he let Yuuri lead. 

 

The mirror ball threw squares of light on them, like coordinated confetti made of light.  Everyone was in shadow and it was just them.  Dancing like they were the only ones in the room.  Just as Victor had dreamed of.


End file.
